Jailbait
by Gurrbill
Summary: Dean knew he shouldn't. He didn't even know the kid's damn name - but all he wanted was that taut little body, writhing in pleasure on the end of his cock. (In short, a barely legal twink by the name of Castiel gets Dean all hot and bothered. Of course sex was going to ensue.)
1. Dean's Goin' To Hell

**Summary:**

**Dean knew he shouldn't. He didn't even know the kid's fucking _name_ - but all he wanted was that taut little body on the end of his cock.**

**(Originally written for a prompt on livejournal: "Cas (18 to early twenties) and Dean (in his late 30s) doing the do. I would like emphasis on the difference in size and age between them, and Castiel accidentally calling Dean "daddy")**

**Rating: NC-17**  
**Pairing: Dean/Cas**  
**Warnings/Tags: Daddy Kink, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Size Difference, Age Difference, Twink Castiel, Barely Legal**  
**Word Count: 3668**  
**Notes: Hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments and all that wonderful stuff are most welcome! ^_^**

* * *

That fucking kid was back again.

Dean got a lot of this type down at Singer's – teenagers wanting to fix up their shitty cars, make the engines as loud as possible in order to try and convince the rest of the word that they owned a real racer when it was actually just a crappy tin can on wheels that made a lot of noise. But this kid was… different.

He looked barely a stroke over eighteen, which made Dean's thoughts about him even more inappropriate. Thirty-eight year-old men were not supposed to obsess over barely-legal teenagers – but Dean was willing to bet his fucking _Impala_ that anybody who said they didn't find the kid attractive was outright lying, straight or not.

He was a lithe little slip of a thing, taut muscles not overly-huge like some of the other knuckleheads that hung around the autoshop - with high cheekbones and pale skin, a light dusting of stubble that would feel fucking _electrifying_ on Dean's lips. And underneath his unruly mop of thick black hair were his eyes. Fuck, his _eyes_ – they were these deep, wide baby blues that looked so damn _innocent_, like he was just begging to be put to good use on the end of Dean's cock. All the mechanic could ever think about when he jerked off in the shower was that blue gaze looking up at him, plush lips wrapped around his dick, bobbing up and down. That kid had cocksucker lips alright. He was sure he had only been created to get Dean arrested.

Hell, he didn't even know the kid's _name_ – all he knew was that he was jailbait and that Dean was screwed.

Especially now, since the kid was _fucking walking up to him_.

"Dean Winchester?" and oh shit, Dean could deal with the good looks and the cocksucker lips and everything, but that fucking _voice_? _What the hell_? Why was he here, tormenting Dean at seven in the evening?

"That's me," he answered, thanking whatever God was listening that his lower half was hidden by the hood of an old '55 Chevy Bel Air he was fixing up for Bobby – because he was currently sporting a hard-on to rock the ages.

Yep. Looked like he was going to the special Hell.

"You're the main mechanic here, right?" he asked, and Dean would be lying if he'd said he wasn't following every movement of the kid's lips as he spoke, heat licking up his insides.

"When Singer's not here, yeah," he nodded, blood pumping when the teenager beckoned for him to follow as he walked away, ass, round and so damn _firm_ in his jeans that Dean was sure he'd be able to bounce a fucking _nickel_ off of the damn thing. God, he'd sell his fucking _soul_ to feel that around his cock.

The kid led him to the other side of the garage (Dean was still adjusting to the size of the place, ever since Bobby had bought it), stopping by a cherry red Mustang with its hood flung open. The kid was peering into the engine, crouched over, ass flung up into the air and it took every shred of self-restraint Dean had not to reach out and grope it through the denim. The kid straightened, smiling when Dean joined him by the car, and the mechanic found the fact that the teenager was a good four inches shorter and much less broad in the shoulders than him that much more arousing.

"I was wondering," he began conversationally, as if he were discussing the weather rather than turning Dean on, "If you could help me replace the carburettor. Oh – I'm Castiel, by the way."

Castiel – the name fitted to a 'T'. Dean wasn't a religious nut but his brother had gone through a phase when they were younger, all that praying and Bible thumping shit – Dean knew enough angel names to know when he heard one. It just increased the 'inappropriate' level to the max. The lithe, barely legal teenager with the big blue innocent eyes and an angel name. Fuck, Dean was so totally _doomed_.

Dean, remembering he, hello, _was a mechanic and supposed to be doing his job_, ducked his head to take a look at the engine, grinning when he saw it was completely pristine, bar the carburettor that looked at least five years old, dull and dusty. He glanced at Castiel, trying to focus on the job rather than the jailbait stood before him.

"Should be easy enough," he reassured, relishing the way those plush lips tipped up into a grin, "I just gotta get my toolkit – back in a sec."

Dean didn't think he'd ever moved so quickly. His body really could be very persuasive, sometimes.

Soon, he was bent over the engine, tools balanced precariously on the lip of the hood, working the carburettor out of its place, trying desperately to ignore the persistent, painfully obvious presence of Castiel stood beside him, watching his every move. His heart was beating rapidly, pounding so loudly against his ribs that he was surprised the kid couldn't hear it. Castiel's hip actually _nudged_ Dean's at one point, and Dean jerked so violently that his elbow knocked a spanner to the floor with a loud clank.

"Shit, sorry –" he began, standing to retrieve the treacherous thing, but Castiel beat him to it, crouching down onto his knees and oh fuck, here came the inappropriate thoughts.

Castiel grabbed the spanner, looking back up at Dean and shit, there was a shower fantasy _right there_ – Castiel, on his knees, face level with Dean's crotch and – crap, _oh crap_. If Cas hadn't noticed the bulge in Dean's jeans before then there was no way in _Hell_ that he'd miss it now.

Dean would've preferred to dance in hellfire than watch as Castiel eyed his boner, spanner still in hand, cocksucker lips falling agape in a minute gasp of surprise.

"…Uh," Dean murmured uselessly, because what else could he fucking do? He was _this fucking close_ to running away and shoving his head in the nearest pile of sand he could find. He wanted to _die_, wanted the ground to swallow him up whole, right there and right then, even when Cas' hands snaked up to rest on his thighs and – wait, wait one _motherfucking_ second, Cas' hands were on his _thighs_?

_When did this happen_.

Those baby blues blinked lazily up at him, head tilting as those lips pulled into a slight pout.

"…Want me to take care of that, Dean?" He asked lightly, ghost of a smirk on his lips, and oh fuck, oh fuck _oh fuck_ – the moral implications could go screw themselves. Dean was gonna grab himself a handful of twink ass tonight and he was gonna fucking _enjoy it_.

He reached down to grasp Cas' stubbled chin, pulling the teenager up to meet his lips and shit, nothing he'd ever imagined had felt _this good_ – Cas' plump lips were soft against his, mirroring every hot slide of skin with ease, tongue swiping across Dean's bottom lip and then the kid actually fucking moaned into Dean's mouth, elegant hand running down the mechanic's chest and letting fingertips run across the sliver of skin beneath Dean's t-shirt. Cas was a fucking _energetic_ kisser, all bouncy and enthusiastic and Dean fucking _loved it_ – he reached down to grip the teen's narrow hips, pushing him back against the Mustang, shoving a leg between his thighs, his own cock throbbing when he felt the hard line of Castiel's dick against his thigh.

"Fucking driving me crazy, Cas," he growled into Castiel's neck, loving the way the teenager rutted shamelessly against his thigh, needy little whines sounding in the back of his throat, "So fucking hot –"

"_Dean…_" Cas exhaled shakily, whole body jolting as Dean sucked an angry mark onto the smooth 'v' of the teen's jugular, "Want you – want you to fuck me so _bad_ –"

Dean buried his head into Cas' shoulder, groaning out his appreciation – oh, he'd fuck him alright. Fuck him until his eyes rolled and he was crying out. He'd mark that firm ass up – ruin it for anybody else. He was gonna make sure of it.

"There's a - fuck, _Cas_ – private room, out back –" He didn't even need to finish the sentence; Cas was already tugging him away, and Dean was silently praying out his thanks to whomever had decided to answer his prayers tonight.

The private room was used by Dean, mainly. Usually after he'd been working for twelve hours straight, sometimes fifteen – in it, there was a single bed, a nightstand, and a water cooler. The last two meant nothing to Dean, as he was currently lip-locked with the jailbait he'd promise he'd never go near, so hard he was surprised he wasn't going dizzy. Go figure.

Cas slammed the door shut behind them and Dean pulled him over to the bed, yanking his t-shirt clean over his head and making light work of Cas' too – and fuck, Dean had been completely right about the boy. Pale, lean muscles, slender and so small pressed against Dean's own, more bulky exterior. The feel of it – of Cas' wiry frame, tight and _scorching_ against his own was too damn good for words. Dean was mesmerised by this chaotic fireball in his arms.

Cas settled on Dean's lap, arms snaking around the mechanic's neck as his hips rolled, clothed cock sliding against Dean's as he ran his hands up the smooth expanse of milky-white shoulder blades, before trailing back down again, fingertips dipping into the dimples pooling at the teen's lower back before going further, squeezing Cas' ass through the denim. Cas mewled, squirming in Dean's lap as he panted into the mechanic's mouth, digits curling in the short hair at the back of Dean's head.

"Please," he begged, hips jerking erratically as he clutched Dean closer, "Please Dean…"

"In a minute, baby, I promise," he gruffed, eyes clashing with Cas' own pleading ones, "Gonna make you feel so fucking _good…_"

Cas tipped his head back, a long, low growl ripping itself from his flushed throat and Dean took the opportunity immediately, peppering the pink skin with tiny nicks of teeth and small lines of kisses, following the line of the teen's jaw, melting at the feel of the stubble beneath his lips. His hands were working feverishly on Cas' jeans, undoing the catch and sliding the rough material down the teen's thighs – he could've laughed at how eagerly Cas stood in order to get the offending garment off of his legs. 'Could've' being the main word there – his laugh died in his throat when he looked down and realised the kid had gone fucking _commando_.

"Just for you," Cas breathed, eyes alight and wild, cock flushed red with need as it hung between his legs, "Wanted you since I first walked in."

Dean could only gape as Cas fell to his knees, pushing Dean's legs apart as his hands slid up to toy with the zipper on his jeans – Dean reached down to undo it, but Cas batted his hands away. Rather than using his fingers, Cas knelt up, and Dean had to thank years of practice for not coming right then as the teen undid the zipper _with his teeth_.

"Fucking hell, _Cas…_" Dean groaned, the pressure lessening slightly on his cock as Cas began to drag both jeans and boxers down, "How long have you been planning this?"

Cas shrugged, tugging the mechanic's last items of clothing off completely, and Dean shivered when the cool room air wrapped around his cock, precum already pearling at the tip. Cas' eyes widened.

"Jesus Christ, you're pretty fucking _cut…_"

The teen was eyeing the full, thick length of Dean's cock hungrily. All nine inches of it. Dean almost felt like shying away. He knew he was well above average, no question – but the way Cas was staring at his cock like it was the meaning of life was a bit unnerving. That is, until the teen was gripping the base and sinking his mouth down over it in one long torturous slide. Dean groaned lowly.

It was _hot_ – blazingly hot, slick and wet and _tight_ and Dean couldn't help but buck upwards a few times, visceral, watching avidly as those spit-slick lips smirked around his cock, kissed red and stretched gloriously _wide_. Cas gagged a little as the head hit the back of his throat, but he didn't seem to care all that much. Dean's hands tangled in his hair – a thing he'd only thought he'd envision himself doing – tugging the teen's head back and forth, the searing friction making white spear across his vision.

"Fuck Cas, right there – " Cas' tongue swirled around the head, before he bobbed his head back down and drew a yelp from Dean's chest, "Oh _fuck…_"

Slim hands were rubbing up the sensitive inner sides of his thighs, fingernails tracing the hot curve of his hips, leaving him writhing and bucking beneath Cas' mouth, hold like iron amidst Cas' hair – he wanted to go gentle, he really fucking did, but this teenager was _doing things_ to him, making heat smother every inch of his skin and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, toes curling into the floor. It was too fucking good to be true – to have this lean creature knelt between his legs like an obedient little cocksucker, taking everything Dean had and more, head bobbing up and down, over and over –

He yanked Cas' head away, mouth pulling off of Dean's cock with an obscene pop. Dean was left trembling, orgasm just seconds away – as much as he'd love to paint the teenager's face with his come (what a mental image that was) he didn't want it to end just yet. He wanted to have Cas beneath him, begging to come as Dean fucked into him, round ass bouncing as Dean's hips snapped ruthlessly before it ended. Yeah. Dean'd like that.

"Gonna make me fucking come," he laughed weakly, massaging Cas' scalp with soothing fingers – the teen blinked up at him, eyes nearly completely black with lust. He tugged Cas' hair gently, coaxing him onto the bed, making him balance on his hands and knees whilst Dean reached for the bedside drawer, inwardly cheering when he found some lube he'd left there weeks ago. Maybe it'd been some kind of subconscious impulse to prepare him for _this_. Whatever it was, Dean was grateful he'd done it.

Dean left the jar on the nightstand, settling behind Cas, running his hands up either side of the teen's spine, hunger flaring when he saw the other tremble, his slight form shaking with every ragged breath. Dean bent over double, tongue dipping into those little dimples and Cas actually fucking _rocked back_, too damn eager for Dean to handle. When Dean reached up to grab two handfuls of that glorious ass, Cas lost it, quivering and muttering incoherent babble. It was only when Dean let his tongue slip further, down and over Cas' entrance, did Dean get a truly _awesome_ reaction.

"Oh fuck, Daddy _yes!_"

Cas stilled, getting a hold of himself whilst Dean froze behind him, tongue still flattened over the teen's puckered hole.

"…Shit, sorry, I didn't mean –"

"Fuck, that's hot," Dean cut the teen off, wet mouth pressing deeper between Cas' cheeks as his jaw worked open the teen's entrance – he pulled back a second later, Cas' hips grinding up into nothing but air, "…Say it again."

He waited, ears pricked for that – that _word_ again. _'Daddy'_… Fuck, his cock throbbed just _thinking_ about it. He had to reach down and grip himself in order to stop himself from coming all over the backs of Cas' thighs.

"Please… _Daddy_."

Dean swore, making a desperate grab for the lube – 'cause he didn't think he could survive much longer. This walking pile of liquid sex was doing things to his libido; Dean might wreck Cas for anybody else, but Cas was absolutely _ruining_ Dean's stamina. Something that had taken _years_ to build up and one little fucking twink had ploughed a bulldozer right through it.

He'd slicked himself up in record time, sliding one slippery finger into Cas entrance, watching as the teen's arms gave out completely, head pressed into the mattress as Dean worked him open.

"Fuck, Dean, _more_ –" Dean slid in another finger and Cas' back arched, crying out as Dean's fingertips brushed his prostate. His cock twitched, hard and neglected between his thighs – Cas all desperate like that was the hottest fucking thing Dean had ever seen. Screw pornstars, this was where the money was at. Cas' every muscle was coiled, shoulders solid and tense, clenching greedily around Dean's fingers, both pulling him in and pushing him out in equal measure. Dean couldn't take much more of this. In fact, after the third finger, he decided to throw patience to the wind.

"Roll over and sit up," he ordered, surprised at how quickly the teen obeyed, and fuck, Cas looked even better now than he had _earlier_. His hair was even messier, if that was possible, his throat and chest flushed as he drew in shallow huffs of vital oxygen, leaning back on his hands with his legs spread, cock hard and slick between his legs. The juts of his slim hips made the mechanic's thumbs twitch. Youth was evident on his person, barely any hair on his legs and no laugh lines around his eyes – just soft skin and sharp angles. Dean felt all hot just _looking_.

He sat back, legs dangling over the edge of the bed as he beckoned for Cas to join.

"I want you to slide on my cock, Cas," he said roughly, relishing the way Cas' eyes widened, mouth falling slack, "Fuck yourself until you come – would you like that?"

Dean had never seen anyone move so damn fast, a blur of pale skin and messy hair, and then Cas was sinking down onto his length, gasping and whining, heat tight and scorching and Dean nearly leapt off of the fucking _bed_, pinpricks of pleasure jolting across his every nerve as the teen split himself wide on Dean's cock. He was still so _young_ - still so _tight_ that Dean felt like he was _breaking_ him. Cas' skinny legs actually _spasmed_, whole body tightening like a bowstring string as he sank down all the way, and that was when Dean was hit by a very sudden burst of inspiration.

Cas was so damn _small_ in comparison to Dean that his lean weight barely registered on the mechanic's lap, and Dean wanted to take full advantage of that fact in order to try out something he hadn't done in years - he quickly whispered for Cas to hold on, the teen obligingly doing as he was told, head dipping between his shoulders as he rolled back onto Dean's cock, arms looping across the muscled span of Dean's back.

Dean braced himself, thighs tensing, and then, he stood, the teen still seated fully on his cock as Dean reached around to grip that firm ass.

Both men groaned as the new position allowed Dean to slam in deeper, Cas' legs hooking high up around Dean's waist, flexible slim thing that he was, fucking himself wantonly on Dean's cock, slamming his ass down over and over again, their skin slapping together. Dean's biceps were burning as they pulled the teen up and down, but absolute pleasure was overriding every other sensation – flames were coursing through his blood, a tight ball of heat gathering in the pit of his stomach, encouraging him to fuck faster. Cas was pressing his lips desperately into Dean's, sloppy and uncoordinated as he rocked jaggedly, crying out on every thrust, every time Dean's huge cock hit that sweet spot inside. Dean's legs bowed, pushing himself further up into Cas' slick channel, their bodies damp with sweat, chests pressing together, and it took far too long for him to realise the hoarse voice calling out Cas' name was his own.

"F-fuck," Cas breathed, head lolling to rest on the skin where Dean's neck met his shoulder, "Oh shit, Dean – Dean I _can't_ –"

"I know," Dean whispered huskily into Cas' ear, tracing the smooth ridge of Cas' collar bone with his mouth, "Touch yourself baby, I got you."

A hand unravelled from Dean's neck, Cas reaching down to stroke his cock, the teen making all these fevered little sounds, coaxing Dean to keep going, keep spearing into the teen whilst he held him close, feeling every jerk of Cas' muscles, every hitched breath and choked off word – Dean pounded into the teen that much harder, every sound fuelling each relentless snap of his hips.

Abruptly, Cas arched, mouth falling open.

"Daddy – oh fuck, _Daddy -!_"

Come splattered between them, Cas falling silent as he worked through his climax, clenching hard around Dean's cock, and Dean just kept going, fucking the teen to completion, his own orgasm speeding towards him at a hundred miles a minute. It hit him hard – so hard that his knees buckled and he had to fall back onto the bed, hips flexing, pushing as deep into Cas' willing little body as far as he could go, heels of his feet digging into the cheaply carpeted floor, the teen's name broken and ragged on his lips.

Come leaked down between Cas' thighs when Dean pulled out, wracking a shiver over the older man's body as he fell backwards, cradling Cas' head against his chest, running the damp strands of dark hair through his fingers as he came down.

"…Can we do this again?" Cas hummed sleepily against Dean's chest, fingers tracing patterns over the mechanic's chest. Dean bit his lip. No, they really, really shouldn't do this again. It was bad and wrong and went against everything Dean promised he wouldn't do and –

"Of course."

_Damn._


	2. May As Well Bang A Few Gongs

**Rating: NC-17**

**Pairing: Dean/Cas**

**Warnings/Tags: Daddy Kink, Barely Legal, Twink Castiel, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, Power Bottom Castiel, sort of, Topping from the Bottom, Size Difference, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Schmoop, a little, okay maybe more than a little, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dirty Talk **

**Word Count: 5204 **

**Notes: - Kudos and comments are most welcome! ^_^ **

**- There are probably some repeated phrases/speech patterns in this from the first Jailbait, but that's cause I don't remember which ones I've used already x3**

**- Finally, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINDLESS PORN I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ASDFGHJKL**

-x-x-x-

Cas was a bratty bottom.

Dean really, _really _shouldn't know that, considering the kid was twenty years younger than him and they shouldn't be screwing _anyway_; but hey, if he was going to Hell, there was no point in half-assing it, was there? May as well damn himself completely and utterly before making the trip downstairs. Bang a few gongs before the lights go out and all that.

So yeah - Cas was a bossy, bratty bottom and Dean absolutely fucking _loved it. _

Admittedly, this demanding, forceful version of Castiel had taking a little coaxing in the beginning - the first time they'd fucked in the autoshop, a month or so ago, the teen had practically been a desperate pile of want and need and 'Daddy' in Dean's lap - but once Cas had discovered he liked giving orders, there was no stopping him.

Like now, for instance.

"Fucking _hell_, Dean -" another sharp slap landed on Dean's ass, the already raw skin throbbing in protest as Cas' legs squeezed tight around his waist, taunting him, "That all you got, huh? Sure you can't give me anymore? I'm - I'm g-getting fucking _bored _down here - oh_ shit...!_"

Dean dug his fingers harder into Cas' narrow hips, bruises marring the skin as he gripped those sharp little fuck handles hard and pinned the teen to the bedspread, pounding into his tight hole even more forcefully than before, knees digging into the bed whilst Cas' nails tore into his skin - there'd be a maze of scratches left there for _days _after. There always were when Dean got to fuck Castiel on an actual _double bed _- the kid enjoyed the space too much for his own damn good.

"'All I got,'" Dean snorted in annoyance, forcing the teen harder down on his cock - Cas cried out, arms shaking, thighs quivering "I'll show you what I've fucking 'got' -"

The headboard was slamming against the wall, Cas' knuckles going white, one hand on Dean's ass whilst the other balled in the rumpled sheets, holding on for dear life as the taller man fucked into him with abandon - their bodies were blazing as they slid together, damp with sweat and precum, the taut skin stretching between Dean's hips colliding with the firm flesh of Cas' ass every second, making all these obscene slapping noises echo through the room. Cas' groans were growing louder, voice punctuated with needy little whines, every graceful roll of his slim body jarred by the relentless slap of Dean's hips.

He looked so _wrecked _like this - holding onto Dean like a needy little bitch, as though he'd fall off the bed if he let go, head thrown back into the pillows, exposing the long pale column of his throat whilst the older man fucked him senseless. Dean swore he couldn't get anymore turned on than he already was, but the way goosebumps prickled his skin and groans of pleasure escaped from his throat told him otherwise. Damn it, he'd show Cas who's boss. Who cared if his thighs felt like they were on fire, or if Cas' nails were drawing blood from his skin? Dean was gonna fuck the kid into oblivion if it took him a hundred _years _- he'd teach Cas a lesson about _exactly _what he had.

The sight of his cock sinking into that tight ass over and over was nearly enough to do him in for good, but he bit his lip, willed off his orgasm for a little longer, focussing instead on the way the teen was gasping and mewling beneath him, mouth parted as those big blues rolled from pure, unadultered _pleasure_. He barely managed to pant out Dean's name before he came between them, unexpected and _loud _- fuck, he was always so _damn _loud. Dean had wondered about gagging that cocksucking mouth once or twice, and the pure _thought _of that made him so hot and bothered that he'd had to beat one off in the shower afterwards. Sin count +1.

Cas' pale hands flung out wildly, landing on the headboard whilst his stomach was painted with ropes of white - Cas was awesome like that sometimes. Dean had pinned it down to teenage stamina or whatever, but the kid got off so fucking _easy_. Coming untouched was like a friggin' walk in the park for him.

The teen unhooked his legs from Dean's waist, raising them in silent offering, and the older man took the opportunity straight away, wrapping his hands around the crooks of Cas' knees and pushing them all the way back, using that youthful flexibility to his full advantage. He draped himself over the teen's boiling hot form, burying himself deep into him, spreading those trembling legs wide and just going to town. Letting loose like a firework.

"Made - you - come," Dean teased breathlessly between gritted teeth, every thrust driving Cas wild with overstimulation. The teen's hips were beginning to wriggle restlessly, coming near to screaming.

"Fuck - fuck Dean, come _**on-!**__"_

The last word was a low, drawn out growl, fashioned purely to spur Dean on, and he knew he couldn't last much longer. He felt Cas' hands snake up to grip the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss, and he obliged greedily, his own building orgasm making his fingertips tingle and his hips snap forwards faster, erratic, crouching over double for a better angle. God, the amount of aches he'd gotten trying to please this kid was fucking _ridiculous_.

"You - you can still do better, _Daddy_," Cas grinned against his lips, winding him up, and then Dean was coming, groaning into the teen's mouth as heat enveloped his skin, Cas' hands stroking down his back soothingly as he shook through his climax, falling, sweaty and sated and teased to exhaustion, on top of the teen's limp body.

They were both panting and completely _blissed out,_ Dean's body still vibrating with the aftershocks_. _He could barely manage to look up through the white-tinged haze invading his vision, but when he did, he saw those big blues watching him mischievously through hooded eyelids. Dean snorted derisively.

"...I still think I won," he grumbled grumpily, Cas' laughter humming through his chest a second later.

"Yeah yeah, okay, whatever you want to believe Dean," Cas smirked, but the glint in his eye and the red in his cheeks told Dean that the teen had enjoyed it just as much as he had. Liar.

Dean kissed him again, pulling out as he leant back on his haunches and quickly unrolled the condom off of his cock and threw it in the trashcan. He'd started using them after their first time together (much to Cas' chagrin). Cas had asked him why in that perpetual, defiant teenage manner, and Dean had answered honestly that, the first time they'd had sex, he hadn't thought it through properly at all. Hadn't set a very good example, and that condoms were more hygienic for everybody. Dean wasn't a prude about sex or anything (far from it, actually) but he'd prefer cleanliness over catching something. Cas ought to prefer it as well - but the teen was a worse influence on _Dean _than Dean was on _him_. _Cas _had been the one to get on his knees and ask Dean if he wanted his cock sucked, after all. So no brainer, really.

He swatted Cas' flank lightly, chuckling at the groan of protest he got in return, "C'mon angel, we gotta get you cleaned up,"

Cas wrinkled his nose childishly at the nickname, limbs still spread on the mattress like a lead starfish, "Out of all the things you could call me, you chose _angel_ - why, exactly?"

Dean grinned, grabbing the teen's hand to pull his lithe form up against his chest. He had to crane his neck in order to press their foreheads together, the height difference making Dean chuckle.

"'Cause it annoys you." He teased, reaching down and squeezing Cas' ass. The teen huffed, slipping off of the bed and disappearing to the bathroom. Dean watched him go fondly.

Stroppy bitch.

-x-x-x-

"So your parents think you're at Balthazar's for the weekend?" Dean asked a few minutes later, Cas' taut body curled against him under the sheets, that unruly bed-head tickling Dean's chest - it still made him weak in the knees, feeling how small Cas was. Some kind of weird, unexplored kink right there.

"Yeah, and if they call up to ask how I am, Balt'll cover for me - he's good like that," Cas burrowed further into Dean's heat, sighing heavily, "...I hate all this sneaking around."

Dean felt a jab of guilt at that - absently, he ran his hand through Cas' hair, chewing his lip. It really wasn't fair, all this - Cas should be having a happy, relatively _normal _relationship with someone of his own age, and Dean felt like he was holding the kid back. He'd already told the teenager he could end it whenever he wanted, the choice was always his. But Cas had stayed, despite Dean's half-hearted attempts to push him away.

"I'm sorry, Cas," he said solemnly into the teen's hair, "It's just, you know what this looks like. Hell, when you're twenty I'll be friggin' _forty_. I look like some kind of paedophile -"

"Dean," Cas cut him off, turning to lean over the older man's body, a thigh landing snugly between Dean's own, "That wasn't some kind of subtle dig. I know the implications, I know why we have to hide - I just wished we didn't have to, is all."

Fingers trailed lightly up Dean's collar bone, a thumb circling his adam's apple - Cas' gaze bored into his, "And you, Dean Winchester, do _not _'look like some kind of paedophile.'"

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Cas quickly cut him off with his lips - slow and soft, inviting in all kinds of ways. Dean melted into it instantly, loving the way Cas' chest pressed against his, surrounded him in a warmth he could've easily drowned in. He grunted his protest out loud when Cas pulled away, the teen smiling smugly down at him.

"God, you need to shut up sometimes," he rolled his eyes, overexaggerating the movement, before promptly rolling out of bed, still completely naked, and wandering out into the hallway, asking Dean if he'd like some coffee. Dean barely managed to respond with a 'yes', eyes following the teen's ass avidly (the same ass he'd just fucked into for a good thirty minutes) as he wandered through the mechanic's apartment, feet almost silent against the floor. Dean's head fell back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

This was another thing that scared Dean too - more than the prospect of being caught. It was the way Cas _was_; how he wasn't just some twink with a sexual need bigger than the Chrysler building. Oh sure, he was a dirty minded, domineering, obnoxious little cockslut in bed - but outside of it? Completely different story. He was a little oddball. Nerdy and a little naïve, yet mature beyond his years. He had three brothers and, from what Dean had heard, not a very pleasant childhood. He'd make Dean breakfast on the rare mornings he was here, and they'd talk for ages about absolutely _nothing _- music, food, family, TV, school, memories, hell, _anything_. He'd listen to everything Dean had to say, always pitching in quiet words of comfort whenever he could with those damn smiles of his.

That was what terrified Dean. Those quiet words. Honest, abrupt, wrapped in sracasm and topped off with a gaze too alight with affection for Dean to deserve. And the worst part?

They were making Dean fall a little bit in love.

"Two sugars, right?" Cas' voice drifted through the air, pleasant and content. Dean ran his hands over his face.

"Yeah," he responded hoarsely, tossing off the covers, "Yeah, please."

He was in way too deep.

-x-x-x-

"That Cadillac should ride smooth from now on, okay Mr Picket?"

The old man gruffed his thanks, snatching his keys out of Dean's hand and sliding into the front seat of his car, nearly crashing into the garage wall as he drove away. Dean sighed - how some people got their licenses he'd never know.

He trailed into his side office, feeling the weight of Monday (ugh) wash over him - he'd had to change sixteen tires today. _Sixteen_. And it was only _one o'clock._ He was getting too fucking old for this.

The blinds were drawn a second later, and Dean savoured the semi-darkness that followed - it was too damn _bright_ today. It was too bright, he had too much work to do and his back was aching too much. The mechanic virtually fell into his office chair, the soft leather cushion comforting on his tired muscles. Absently, he tapped his fingers on his desk, ears pricking when he heard a tentative knock on his door. Curious (albeit, a little pissed because couldn't everybody clearly see he was on break? Ugh) he swivelled around on his chair, and told the person to come in.

None other than Cas, of course.

"Hey, Dean." He smiled innocently (Dean instantly knew he was up to something), fingers toying with the cuffs of his shirt and - whoa, whoa, back the fuck up, why was he wearing a shirt? And - was that a _tie_? Business slacks? He looked like a fucking _strippogram_. Dean leant back in his chair, heart picking up, his cock twitching in interest. Dean's body was quickly beginning to associate 'Cas' with 'sex' whenever the teen was within a fifty foot radius.

"Hey," he let a lazy grin curl his mouth, beckoning with a hand, "What's with the, ah... get-up?"

Cas shrugged, slim shoulders rolling beneath the crisp white fabric - if Dean squinted hard enough he could see a toned chest and peaked nipples beneath. He gulped. Jeans suddenly seemed like the most ridiculous thing to be wearing right then.

"Just had a job interview," Cas murmured, seemingly uncaring as he examined his nails, wiping them against his shirt, pulling the fabric tight on purpose, "Thought I may as well make good use of the suit while I'm wearing it."

Dean must've been going senile as he got older or something, because he clearly _did not _know how, why, or when Cas started straddling his thighs - then again, he didn't really care either. Cas' hips were rolling fucking _figure_-_eights _on Dean's half hard cock, the friction feeling fucking _ecstatic _through his jeans and Dean was left moaning in record time.

Absurdly, halfway through a heated kiss, Dean's first question was, "What job?", to which Cas had simply laughed and said, "Tell you later."

It all just sort of... descended from that point on.

Cas' lean arms were roped around Dean's neck, every plane of his body pressed against the mechanic's - the teens lips were soft and pliant as usual, but now there was another thrill, another measure of fire than usual, hidden in every touch, every hot slide of skin. They were in Dean's office, mid-day, when _anybody _could walk in and God, Dean would be outright _lying _if he said that that didn't turn him on a hell of a lot. One twisted part of his brain hoped - actually _hoped _- for somebody to walk in, watch as Dean's fingers slipped down Cas' back and dipped below the waistband of his slacks, a finger sliding down the crease of the teen's ass and - fuck, fuck, was that a fucking _plug_?

"Mmm, you like that?" Cas whispered into the hollow of Dean's throat - the older man must've groaned when he'd felt the circle of silicone beneath his fingers, "Had so much fun putting it in - not as big as you though. I came screaming your name, Daddy. Wanted that cock inside me _all day_."

Dean's head tipped back, "Fuck, _Cas_," he groaned, rutting up into that lithe weight, "You came all over your bedsheets like a bad boy, huh? Miss me much?"

Teeth nipped at the jut of his adam's apple, teetering the line between pleasure and pain and supernovas were exploding in Dean's brain. "All the time," was the smooth reply - a hand was stroking down Dean's chest, fiddling with the catch on his jeans, "Get so hard for you, Dean - want you to fuck me raw right now - bounce me on that huge cock until I'm begging to come. You think you got that in you? You think you could make me come like that?"

Hell _yes_, he could do that - every word Cas said brought Dean closer to the edge, every syllable coated in that hint of bossy defiance. Dean couldn't even _begin _to form a response because Cas' nimble fingers were already tracing the hot swell of his cock (when had he undone Dean's pants?) thumbing the head and making his chair protest as he bucked upwards.

"Fuck, Cas - you _wait _- I'll fuck you _brainless _-"

"Dean? Where are you, you son of a bitch?"

Dean froze. Cas stilled, hand still shoved down the front of Dean's pants. They looked at each other, wide eyed.

"Dean? So help me, if you've snuck off to some godforsaken bar again -"

Bobby. It was fucking _Bobby_.

"Shit, Cas, _hide_ -" Dean breathed, eyes darting about desperately - there was a stack of shelves, a counter and a filing cabinet in Dean's immediate line of sight, but even Cas was too big to fit into those. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack, until his gaze landed on his salvation.

_The desk_.

"Under there," he grunted as Cas leapt off of him, slipping underneath the desk (thank fuck it had a back to it), grabbing the arm of Dean's chair and pulling the mechanic forwards. Dean was mindful of his knees - he didn't want to hit the kid in the face, obviously - and tucked in his legs, sealing off any lurking threat of Cas being seen. His heart was racing, and he would've told Cas to be quiet, had Bobby not bust through the office door at that very moment. Dean grabbed a pencil, making a wild bid to look nonchalant as he pretended to be writing something down on a stray bit of lined paper, his cock still throbbing between his legs.

The bearded man's eyes landed on Dean, "You deaf?" He snarled, striding forwards, and Dean suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that his cock was still fully hard and hanging out of his jeans. Wouldn't that be a fun situation? _"Oh sorry Bobby, I was just getting jacked off by my barely-legal boyfriend boyfriend who's now hiding underneath the desk, I hope you don't mind public indecency too much."_

Yeah. He'd break the world record for getting fired in the shortest space of time for that one. Cas shifted against his leg. Bobby continued, "I've been calling you for the last five damn _minutes_, boy. We got customers you know."

"Sorry Bobby," Dean apologised, his tone coming out cracked and breathless - Bobby raised an eyebrow at him, and Dean felt a nervous little thrill shoot through him. It was just so _dirty _- having a barely legal teen kneeling in front of his cock whilst the rest of the world was completely oblivious. He silently cursed his body for getting off on this, quickly thinking of an excuse, "I was, ah - I was... on the phone. With a client. And we were - _oh fuck!_"

Bobby's exclamation of "_'Scuse me_?" went unnoticed when something unbearably hot and _slick _and _fuckfuckfuck _slid down over Dean's dick - the knuckles of his left hand went white where they gripped the arms of the chair, teeth clenched so tightly together it felt like his skull might snap in two. The pencil strained in his grasp.

Cas was fucking sucking him off _under the goddamn desk_.

He was gonna fucking _pay _for this later.

"I-I just," - _I just need to take a break whilst Cas' tongue is swirling round the tip of my cock, wet, and hot and oh sweet __**Jesus**_- "I just remembered something I should've - should've told the... client."

Bobby was looking at him as though he'd grown another head.

"...You sure you're okay Dean?" The older man gruffed, gesturing vaguely to the door, "You want me to help you outside for some fresh air or -?"

"_No_!" Dean damn-near _yelled_, Cas' plush lips forming a tight ring and swallowing him down in one smooth glide, all the way to the hilt of his cock - he felt blood in his mouth where he'd bitten his tongue in surprise, and Bobby looked downright _terrified _at the volume of his voice. _Cas, you gorgeous fucking bastard_, _**stop**_, "No," Dean repeated shakily, "No, I'm - I'm fine Bobby. Just gotta - gotta call back this - _fu_- client."

Bobby's eyes were wide, and to Dean's horror, he came closer, shaking his head a fraction "I don't think you're in a right state of mind to be calling anybody, Dean."

_I'm not in the right state to be doing anything with this cockslut sucking me off under the desk right now, no._

Dean attempted a lighthearted chuckle, ending up instead with some macabre imitation of a whimpering cough as Cas' tongue began to circle his balls, sucking each one into his mouth, pale hands gripping Dean's ankles and pinning him down to the floor, "I'm _fine_, Bobby - just really, r-really," - fuck, was Cas _humming_? - "_Really _tired. Didn't get m-uch, uh, sleep."

Bobby stared at him a little longer, long enough to watch Dean's shaking hand snap the pencil he was holding clean in two as Cas started jacking Dean off with his hand under the desk, relentless and irresistibly _fast,_ palm slick with saliva and precum and just about every other slick thing on the goddamn planet. The older mechanic cleared his throat, eyes running up and down Dean's (debauched) appearance.

"Yeah, well... I came in here to tell you we got a new recruit," he mumbled warily, and Dean very nearly didn't catch the end of that sentence because Cas was doing this... this _thing _that set his skin alight and oh _fuck_, "Small kid, just graduated. Fresh blood - oughta be good for this old place, don't you think?"

Dean bit his tongue, forcing a smile as he nodded stiffly, nails digging into the cheap chipboard of his desk as Cas' fingers started massaging the skin just below his balls, mouth sliding quickly over Dean's shaft again- the mechanic wondered how the kid hadn't bashed his head on the desk yet.

"Fresh blood," he repeated numbly, trying in vain to control his breathing, "Yeah, y-yeah, okay B-obby."

Bobby's eyes were boring into Dean's suspiciously, and panic spiked in Dean's chest - as though the old man knew _exactly _what was happening beneath the desk, knew _exactly _why Dean was twitching and sweating and wearing such a fake, _wide _smile that it nearly cracked his face in half. But instead of addressing it, he merely sighed and shook his head.

"You best get some more shut eye tonight, Dean. You can uh," Bobby jumped and backed away like a startled horse when Dean surged forwards over his desk, fist slamming on the wooden surface whilst the older man made a beeline for the door, his parting words coming out in a rush "You can go home early today."

Bobby left as fast as he could, slamming the door shut behind him, and the timing couldn't have been better because Dean's orgasm pounded into him like a freight train the very second the door closed, shuddering into the tight wetness of Cas' mouth as he breathed out the teen's name, vision going dark. He kicked away Cas' hands, pushing his chair back and breathing heavy, cock slipping out of Cas' mouth as he came.

When he managed a look down, he saw Cas looking right back at him, blinking innocently, face dark in the shade of the desk, and Dean groaned when he saw ropes of white decorating the kid's face - one on his cheekbone, a splatter on his bottom lip, one thick stripe over the bridge of his nose and connecting to his eyebrow, resting across his eyelashes. It broke the next time he blinked.

"_Fuck_..." Dean hissed, voice rough, watching as Cas' tongue ran across his bottom lip, licking up the streak of Dean's come, "Cas, you fuckin' bastard."

The teen - or rather, _devil incarnate _- smirked.

"Made you come," he mocked, mimicking Dean's words from yesterday, his mouth tipping up in a crooked version of a smile. He ran his thumb over the white line on his nose and brought it down to his mouth, licking it clean. Cas' mouth closed around the tip of his thumb, cheeks hollowed as his throat bobbed, sucking up Dean's come like the little slut he was. Dean's breath hitched, his cock giving a valiant twitch. Cas looked up at him through his lashes.

"Taste so _good_, Dean," Cas let his thumb linger on the seam of his lips, before sliding his his palms up Dean's legs, edging between his knees, apparently ignoring the fact that he'd sucked Dean off _in front of his boss,_ "So good that I think..."- heat flared in Dean's gut when the teen shifted closer - "...I want more. Wanna swallow you down again - and considering you've got the rest of the day off..."

Dean's last thread _broke_.

He wrapped his hand round that motherfucking _tie_, yanking the teen up to eye-level, catching those filthy lips in a kiss and shivering when he tasted himself on that tongue.

"Car. _Now_."

Cas cocked his head, leaning forwards to pull Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, letting go and watching as blood rushed to the surface of skin, forehead pressing against the taller man's. He leant in close, stubble prickling against Dean's skin as the teen took his earlobe into his mouth and bit down, voice husky as he whispered into Dean's ear.

"...Only if you can fuck me hard enough, Daddy."

They got to the damn car.

-x-x-x-

Dean's skin was sticking to the leather of the back-seat - the air was thick and cloying and there was a thin film of condensation on the windows, but he didn't mind; Cas was on top of him, panting heavy and completely exhausted, like a gangly, sweaty blanket and Dean basked in the warmth, letting it seep into his skin as the slow dregs of sleep began to curl at the edges of his brain. Many good times had been had in this car, and Cas had easily just topped that long, long list.

"Did you get it?"

Dean's eyes fluttered open, brow furrowing as his gaze slid over Cas' excited one.

"What?"

The teen sat up, a hand on the back of the seat, leather squeaking as he manoeuvred himself to straddle Dean's midsection, and well, that full-frontal was definitely enough to make Dean's hazed mind forget the conversation entirely for a minute.

"Did you get what Bobby said? About 'fresh blood'?" Cas was smiling, a glint in his eyes that spoke volumes about how happy he was - it made Dean's insides warm in a freakishly girly way, "Or were you too distracted by my..." Cas trailed his fingers up the dip between Dean's pecs, eyes flashing, "...certain 'talents'?"

'Talents' was one of putting it. That mouth was gonna be the death of him, he was sure of it. He vaguely remembered something about a 'new recruit' being said to him, but Cas hadn't exactly been all that... _helpful. _Dean had barely heard a word Bobby had said. That didn't mean he couldn't put two and two together though - he was slow, but he wasn't stupid.

"...You?" He murmured, sitting up as much as he could in the confined space, shoulders aching, "But - but you just got out of high school!"

Cas shrugged, "I was in AYES in high school - Automotive Youth Educational System," he added at Dean's look of confusion, "Bobby took one look at my qualifications and said that I could enrol as an entry-level car mechanic."

Dean stared, processing what exactly that meant - what that meant for both of them, ignorant of the way Cas' smile was gradually falling, uncertain as he shifted awkwardly in Dean's lap. His eyes drifted down, hands wringing.

"If you're not happy with it I could -"

"No no, Cas this is -" Dean let out a strung out laugh, tugging the teen forwards in one of the most awkwardly positioned hugs he'd ever given - naked and everything, "-this is _awesome_."

Cas seem to sag with relief against Dean's chest, and the mechanic felt kind of bad knowing that his opinion meant so much to the kid, but the stray thought was shoved roughly aside when Cas giggled - yes, fucking _giggled _- against his chest.

"I thought you were mad, for a second," he exhaled slowly, fingers tracing illegible patterns across the older man's skin. Unbeknown to Cas, Dean rolled his eyes. He reached up, cupping the teen's face, stroking his thumbs along those high cheekbones, forcing their eyes to clash, his whole being softening when the teen leant into the touch, sighing.

"Even if I was," he begun deliberately, ensuring that the message hit home, "You would still do it. I don't control your life Cas, you gotta know that. I don't want to make you unhappy."

The words sunk in for a moment, weighing down like a sack of bricks to the teen's shoulders and then Cas was kissing him again, palms flat against Dean's biceps as he tilted his head, mouth open against the mechanic's. Dean hardly managed to keep up, that endless reserve of energy bundled up inside the teen pouring itself into every second of the kiss, heated and happy and wonderfully content. So damn content that Dean felt full with some foreign emotion, and when Cas pulled away he was empty, left bare without those lips completing the circuit of their bodies - at least, he felt bare. Cas beamed down at him, a comfortable silence settling between them. Dean would've drifted off, had Cas not made a noise.

"Oh," the teen murmured suddenly, eyes widening a little as his lips parted - like he'd just remembered something, "Remember when I asked you for help with the carburettor? When we first... you know." He rolled his hips to make his point. Dean nodded (how could he forget?). Castiel blushed.

"Yeah, um... I didn't actually need any help with it," Cas admitted, eyes flickering down bashfully, "That was just my way of getting your dick in me."

Dean gaped at him.

What. A. _Bastard_.

"You sly son of a bitch," he shook his head bemusedly, and they were kissing and tumbling around in the back-seat again before the haze in Dean's head could even begin to clear.

Dean was in for a rollercoaster ride, that was for sure.


	3. On Your Marks

**On Your Marks**

**Rating: NC-17**

**Pairing: Dean/Cas**

**Summary: Castiel needs to be taught a lesson. So Dean does what any normal person would do with a misbehaving twink; bends him over his knee, spanks him, and fucks him hard. Cas doesn't seem to be viewing it as much of a punishment, however.**

**Warnings/Tags: Twink Castiel, Barely Legal, Butt Plugs, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, Rough Sex**

**Notes: More mindless, self-indulgent sex. You're welcome. **

-x-x-x-

Castiel got home later than Dean, which the mechanic was _definitely _grateful for. Eventually, Cas would probably have near the exact same timetable Dean himself had, but until the teen had proved his skills to Bobby, he'd be suffering overtime for anything up to two months. Just like Dean had had to endure when he'd first been employed all those years ago.

It was the third weekend of the month, otherwise known as "_that _weekend". When Cas would say that he was going round Balthazar's or make up some other bullshit excuse to stay in Dean's apartment for forty-eight hours of talking, cuddling and hot sex. Mostly the latter.

This weekend was particularly special though, because Dean was actually _planning _something.

See, he wasn't really the 'planning' type of guy - impromptu sex in the back of his car? Totally expected. Throwing a meal together out of the desolation of his fridge? Predictable. But _planned_? Hold the phone and stop the race, Dean Winchester was on a damn _mission_.

Mission being: putting Cas back in line.

The teen had been driving him nuts for so goddamn _long _now that Dean needed to sit back for an hour nearly everyday just to _breathe_. It was like being eighteen all over again, with uncontrollable hormones attacking his brain and the ability to go from zero to sixty in less than three seconds where his dick was concerned. He didn't know how to deal with it.

How to deal with Cas being such a fucking _brat_.

Don't get him wrong; Dean loved the way Cas liked to give orders. Loved the way his boy could coax him into a pure, lustful rage and taunt him about it afterwards with cocky smirks and snide remarks. It was just Cas, being a smug bastard as usual.

But tonight, Dean wanted _revenge_. Plain and simple. He wanted to remind Cas who was in charge and dammit, the teenager was gonna lie back and keep his bossy mouth shut for once.

Dean heard the front door creak open, and he settled himself further into the couch, sinking into the cushions, focussing intently on the Doctor Sexy M.D episode flashing up on the screen, his heart speeding up.

_On your marks. _

"Thank God they have a shower at that place," Cas' voice drifted in from the hallway, soft clacks sounding as he took off his shoes, "Grease was _all _over me. Mr Picket needs to get a better car - his engine is completely inadequate."

_Get set. _

The teen drifted around the doorway, took two steps forward and promptly stopped dead, mouth hung open on the end of his sentence.

_Go. _

"You just gonna stand there? Or are you just gonna gape like a fish all night?" Dean asked smoothly, pouring a little more power into his questions than he normally would've, eyes never once leaving the TV screen. He needed to play his part _just _right. Needed to reaffirm his position. Make it completely clear.

"You're..." Cas paused, "Why are you naked, Dean?"

Dean ignored the way the leather of the sofa was beginning to stick to his gradually dampening skin, keeping his face a mask of complete indifference. _Just right. _

"'Cause it's my damn house, that's why. Now sit down."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cas tentatively shifted closer, body bending to sit on the couch. Dean snapped his fingers, stopping the teen dead in his tracks.

"I didn't say on the couch," he pointed to the space between his spread legs, clicking his fingers again - the action might've seemed pretty dickish, but he heard Cas' sharp intake of breath and he took it as a sign of encouragement, "On your knees. Face me."

Cas obeyed swiftly, Dean's gaze on the TV all the while - he wasn't actually paying one iota of attention, but it all added to the effect and that was all that concerned him at the moment.

He let the kid stew for a few minutes, sat like that, mouth inches away from Dean's half-hard cock. Dean attempted to lose himself in the story arc of Doctor Piccolo and her affair with one of the patients, and he was managing it quite well until one of Cas' impatient hands smoothed up his thigh. Immediately, his brain went into overdrive, and he fell into character easily.

"Hands off," he ordered, pleased at the frustrated little huff he got in return. Inwardly, he was grinning. This was getting easier by the minute.

"Dean, this isn't exactly _fair _-"

"Five," Dean interrupted. He could feel Cas' confusion wash over him like a physical wave, thick and honest.

"What? Dean this really isn't funny -"

"Ten," Dean counted again, finally dragging his gaze down to meet Cas' pinched one, the deep blue clouded with confusion. Dean let a crooked grin stretch his lips, "That's for speaking out of turn. Not very patient, are we?"

Cas rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at the older man, "No Dean, I'm not -"

"Fifteen - for answering without permission. You're really not getting this, are you Cas?"

Cas' mouth snapped shut, eyes widening. Ah. That'd be the situation hitting home. Victory swelled in Dean's gut, his inner voice roaring in triumph. Looks like he was getting somewhere. Finally.

"See, Cas," He leant forwards, running his hands loosely through that thick shock of black hair, "I've decided I've had enough. You need to learn a lesson about who's really in charge here," he tugged lightly on the onyx strands, "That would be me, by the way."

He watched the pink sliver of Cas' tongue dart out to moisten his his chapped bottom lip, throat bobbing slowly as Dean coaxed the teen's head back, baring that long stretch of neck. He let his eyes linger on it for a moment, forming careful words in his heaad.

"So I thought to myself, 'How can I teach a stubborn teenager the importance of authority?' and then it hit me," he leant in close, pulling Cas up on his knees to go nose to nose with him, hot puffs of the teen's excited breath ghosting over his lips, "Bad boys like you need to be _punished,_ don't they? Are you a bad boy, Cas? You can answer."

This was it. This was the pivotal point. The point where Cas could either agree with wholehearted consent to Dean's game or flat out deny him. Dean tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating, how damn hard he'd gotten from talking to the teen in such a way. It felt too damn good to be true.

Cas was wide-eyed, blue eyes catching the sharp light from the TV and reflecting it back. He opened his mouth, watching Dean avidly.

"...I'm a bad, _bad _boy, Dean."

Relief flooded Dean's veins, almost overpowering the absolute lust he felt at hearing such _sinful _words falling from Cas' innocent looking mouth. He didn't have time to relish the feeling yet, however - he still needed to act whilst the timing was right.

"That's what I thought," Dean agreed, voice gruff as he tightened his grip in the kid's hair, "And you've earned fifteen smacks on that tight ass of yours already, haven't you? Not a good start, is it Cas?"

Cas shook his head minutely, waiting for the next word that fell out of Dean's mouth like it was a sacred prayer. The pure focus in that gaze was all directed on Dean at once, and he felt fucking _giddy _because it was so damn _powerful_.

"Get up and strip," He commanded, releasing Cas' hair with more force than necessarily needed, sending the teen careening back on his haunches, flushed and breathless. Dean leant leisurely back into the cushions, glad to note the bulge in the kid's jeans, "Afterwards, you get over here and bend yourself over my knees. This punishment's been a long time coming, hasn't it Cas? Answer."

Cas had gotten to his feet, and was nodding vigorously as he pulled his tee over his head, hands flying to his jean's zipper.

"Yes, Dean. A... a very long time," Cas breathed.

"Twenty," Dean grinned at the shocked stare he got in return, "I'm 'sir' to you, boy."

The taller man grinned when Cas bit his lip - a little trait Dean had began to pick up on a couple of weeks ago. It was a little gesture that read, loud and clear, as: 'I'm fucking enjoying this, Dean.' It sent spikes of pleasure zig-zagging down to the older man's dick. He finally broke reserve and reached down, gripping himself hard, hissing at the contact of dry skin on dry skin. Thank God he'd thought ahead an put lube on the side table, otherwise he'd be fucked right about now.

When his palm was relatively slick, he began fisting his cock lewdly, slowing his hand on the way down, squeezing and pushing all that pent up pleasure down into his groin, before twisting his wrist fast on the upstroke, thumb pausing just below the head, purely to savour the ecstatic jump of sensation as he slid his palm up and over the tip, lightning shooting downwards and making his balls settle, heavy and aching, between his legs. Teeth dug into his bottom lip, and he repeated the action over and over, slow and fast, agonising and fucking amazing all at once. He came so close to completion that he nearly forgot that Cas was in the room entirely, until he caught sight of miles of pale flesh in front of him, silhouetted by the glow of the now-muted TV.

"Good boy," he praised, letting go of his cock, letting a full body shiver wrack his skin. He let his arms drift to his sides, easing forward and gesturing expectantly to his lap. Cas virtually leapt forwards, and Dean was pretty sure that nobody was supposed to be that enthusiastic about getting spanked. He stretched face-down across Dean's legs faster than the taller man thought was possible, pushing his pale ass up in offering. Dean's cock throbbed at the sight of the thick purple plug already stuffing the teen full - he'd taken to wearing it whenever he was around Dean, always wanting to be ready in case a situation arose. Like this one, for instance.

"Too eager, little slut," Dean purred, crouching over to leave a few sparse kisses in the space between the smooth planes of Cas' shoulder blades - _is this okay, are you sure you're enjoying this? _- "You shouldn't like this. It defeats the purpose."

The first slap was sudden, but gentle - Dean didn't want to overstimulate the kid, after all. The teen tensed, a strained gasp falling from his lips as blood rushed to his skin. Oh yeah. This was gonna be fun.

"Make as much noise as you like sweetheart," Dean murmured lowly, landing another smack that made Cas' ass bounce, jarring the plug nestled deep inside, "I wanna hear all those dirty little noises coming from your mouth - wanna hear you moan for me like the whore you are."

Another quick slap, followed by two in a row, more force put behind each one - Cas' back arched, a skinny arm reaching out to grip the sofa, the other flailing downwards to grip Dean's ankle, trying desperately to keep himself anchored as he cried out, hips making little jutting movements against Dean's thigh and good _God_, just when Dean didn't think Cas couldn't get any hotter, the kid fucking _delivered_. Nothing but a writhing mess of limbs and moaning and _want _across Dean's legs.

"Fuck, you like that? Like being punished, don't you Cas?" Dean asked, running his palm soothingly over the reddened skin of Cas' ass - only five in on one cheek and the teen's skin was already like fire beneath Dean's palm, "Answer me baby. Tell me how much you like being bent over my knees and slapped raw."

He watched the back of Cas' head as he looked up, lean muscles bunching beneath the skin of his back. Dean ran his tongue along his lips, palm meeting the soft skin of Cas' ass again. The teen blurted out his answer in a rush.

"Like it _so _much, sir," Cas panted, sounding as though he'd just ran a marathon, "Want you to do it again - w-want you to slap me like a whore. Make me beg for it, sir - sir _please._"

Dean couldn't even bring himself to point out that Cas shouldn't be giving orders at that point, because holy fuck, where the hell had the kid learnt to talk like _that_?

"You just get filthier with every word, you know that?" he chuckled, landing the seventh slap abruptly, making Cas buck on his knees, "I oughta fuck some manners back into you."

In a botched form of response, Cas keened low in his throat, and Dean actually felt the teen's cock throb against the side of his thigh, precum smearing onto his skin, and fuck, if that wasn't enough to make Dean groan then nothing could.

He got harder with his smacks, changing pace and force, making Cas' ass a glorious shade of burning cherry red, the skin hot and soft against Dean's palm. He placed his other hand at the back of Cas' neck, fingers running through the sweaty black curls at the base and pushing the teen's head down, and the stream of curses that followed wasn't nearly as good a the way the kid starting driving his hips against Dean's knee.

"Again," Cas demanded, "Sir - sir _please...!_"

The next slap - the nineteenth - was particularly forceful, and Dean could faintly see the reddish outline of his hand on Cas' butt cheek after it; as well as feeling a tell-tale wetness dripping on his opposing leg.

Shit - was Cas_ crying?_

He soothed a palm over the mark, leaning over the lithe form stretched across his knees in order to duck closer to Cas' ear.

"You okay?" He murmured, breaking the scene just for a moment. He wouldn't continue if his baby boy was hurting. As turned on as he was, he simply refused to carry on unless both parties were enjoying it.

"Please..." Cas whispered brokenly, digging his heels into the carpet to cant his hips into the air, presenting that fine ass for Dean to touch as he pleased, "Dean please. Once more, _please..._"

Immediately, Dean relaxed back into the couch, extraordinarily relieved.

"...Once more?" He teased, nearly laughing at Cas' eager little nod, "I don't know... Do you think you deserve it?"

The only garbled noise Cas could manage at that point was a strangled moan, head dipping between his shoulders to press submissive little kisses across Dean thigh - a silent kind of begging, and oddly, Dean found it rather cute.

"Seeing as you've been so well behaved..." Dean trailed off, teasing Cas' raw skin with his fingers before pulling his hand back. He watched as Cas tensed, ready for the hit, but Dean waited a little longer, throwing the teen completely off beat. As soon as the quivering muscles in Cas' thigh relaxed, Dean landed his hardest smack yet, and all he heard was a choked "_Fuck!"_ before Cas came, spilling hot and sticky onto Dean's thigh, toes digging into the floor as he scrabbled at the sofa for purchase.

It was so fucking _hot_.

And it kind of reminded Dean how much his own cock was throbbing with the need to be buried in that tight ass.

He didn't even wait for Cas to recover - he simply hooked one arm underneath Cas' chest and the other beneath his hips, and lifted the teen's slight frame easily as he stood. He slung the kid face-down over the arm of the couch, yanking out the thick purple plug and drawing a shocked yelp from the kid's raw throat, before feverishly squirting lube on Cas' gaping asshole and slamming in with a growl. That earned him a scream.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, throwing his head back as he dug his fingers into those razor-sharp hipbones, impossibly _tight _heat enveloping him, "Fucking _take it,_ Cas -"

Cas moaned when Dean put up a punishing pace, pistoning his hips in and out of that virgin tightness until they were both _drenched _in sweat, panting and grunting as Dean fucked the kid into oblivion.

This here was what he liked. He liked his boy fucked out and sloppy, writhing on the couch whilst his greedy little asshole took Dean's cock like it was second nature. On some wild impulse, he reached out a hand, grabbing a fistful of that messy mop of hair, and yanked - yanked and tugged until Cas' shaking back was pushed tight into Dean's chest, fucking himself hard on Dean's cock, mewling like a cat in heat, reaching around to wrap his fingers in the short hair on the back of Dean's head.

Dean just kept going, balls slapping on the sensitive skin of Cas' ass before driving his cock as far in as it would go, rolling out figure-eights with his hips, relentlessly rubbing against the sweet spot inside that made Cas' back arch against him, and that was when the most _wrecked _sounds Dean had ever heard fell from those chapped cocksucker lips. The teen's breathless whines of pleasure were interspersed with choking pleas and gasps of Dean's name, and it didn't take long for the older man to pound in deep and shiver as he climaxed, his mouth falling open soundlessly, teeth latching onto Cas' nape and biting down _hard. _Hard enough to leave a bruising mark that Cas had to hide days after. But by God, it was _worth _it.

Cas was panting, fingers so tight in Dean's hair that it kind of hurt. He was breathing so heavy that Dean thought he might collapse, especially when he saw the teen's knees were shaking. Softly, he smoothed his hands up and down Cas' sides, layering gentle kisses over the blossoming mark he'd just put on Cas' neck. The teen's fingers loosened slightly.

"You okay?" Dean mumbled, peppering the soft skin of Cas' neck with tiny kisses because, fuck, the kid looked like he _needed _it. He was trembling in Dean's arms, and the man began to think that maybe he'd been a little too rough. Gingerly, he nosed at Cas' ear, arms wrapping around the teen's naval, "Cas?"

Cas released a long breath, head dropping back to rest on Dean's shoulder. Tired blue eyes clashed with his own, sleepy smile adorning sex-hazed features. He looked kind of giddy. Drunk on fucking.

"You forgot the con-dom," he sing-songed, like he'd won a game, and Dean blinked, realisation creeping up on him.

_Dammit_. Fucking twinks.

"Hey," Cas soothed, voice absolutely _ruined_, "We're both clean anyway. Besides," as if from the air itself, Cas produced the purple plug that Dean had taken out earlier, flourishing it with a flick of his wrist, "I like your come in my ass."

Dean's eyes widened. Somewhat awed, he said, "You're gonna be the death of me, Castiel Novak."

Cas just grinned, rolling his hips against Dean's rapidly hardening cock still buried inside his ass.

"If you mean death by orgasm, then hell yeah," he grinned, scraping his nails across Dean's scalp, "That'd definitely be me."

Dean just grinned, craning his neck to kiss that ridiculously gorgeous mouth again.

Death by orgasm didn't sound so bad.


End file.
